


Her Butler: Madcap

by MrSpears



Series: Hunger of Legion Series [5]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Diapers, F/M, M/M, Multi, Suicide, Trans Character, William's Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSpears/pseuds/MrSpears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronald has lost an eye. Grell is being sent on a mission. William is voluntarily seeking out an alliance with Sebastian Michaelis; all to track down the demon and his mistress who have stolen Ciel Phantomhive. Has the world gone completely mad?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Most Grievous Fault

His white brogues gleamed under the office building’s harsh, unforgiving light. There was not a speck of dirt or blood on them, he had always seen to that. It was strange how, looking down at them, it didn’t feel like had lost an eye. It was when he lifted his head, when he tried to walk, when he wielded his scythe… 

Ronald had always struggled to drag himself up to meet his own expectations as well as those of his superiors. But now he knew he was going to have to work twice as hard just to maintain the lowest standard, at least until he had learned to cope with this disability. Ronald shuffled his shoes underneath the desk, slick soles sliding over the smooth floor. He had been lucky enough to be allowed to keep his job, but that was probably only because Will was feeling incredibly guilty. 

Will sat at the desk across from him, fingertips pressed together, green eyes observing the junior employee from behind dark-rimmed glasses. Ronald kept his head down, his blonde and black hair falling into his face – desperately in need of a trim. 

“Please do not shuffle your feet.” That cold voice said.

Ronald stopped, his legs curled up and his feet disappearing beneath his chair.

Will took a deep breath, bringing his hands down and setting the palms against the surface of his desk. He had never been good at this… apologizing. He couldn’t remember the last time he had to. 

“…Knox.” 

Ronald’s shoulders hunched at the sound of his name, a visible cringe.

Will sighed.

“…I think you are due for a promotion.” 

Ronald’s head came up. Shock was written all over his dumbfounded features. 

“I don’t understand.” Ronald said. He really didn’t. 

Will didn’t stare at the white medical eye patch covering Ronald’s right eye, resting behind his glasses, but that was all the shinigami could think about. As a superior, he had failed his employee. He had led him into dangerous territory which, Will was loath to admit, Grell would have had a better chance of coming out of unscathed. 

Will had miscalculated. He hated being wrong, but he could try to make it up to the junior the best he could within the bounds of reason.

“I failed you,” Ronald said when Will didn’t reply. “You were relying on me to pull my weight with that …demon, and I just…” his voice faltered, ending in a whisper. “I just… couldn’t. Instead you had to pull me out of there, and we lost him. He got away because of me.” 

Will pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in another deep breath. The earnest young reaper was not making this any easier. 

“Ronald.” Will said, and the junior reaper’s mouth fell open – he could not remember the last time he heard William address him in any sort of familiar manner. “What happened there was not your fault. It was entirely mine. Do you understand?” 

“No,” Ronald said. “Clearly not.” 

Will’s lips made a thin, disapproving line at his employee’s curtness. Any other day would it would have warranted a sharp reprimand. 

"My own grievous miscalculation was what led to the loss of your eye and the demon’s escape.” Will said. “Nothing more, is that clear? You did only as you were told. You did entirely right.”

Ronald swallowed, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in his skinny throat. 

“So once this demon and his mistress have been exterminated, I am going to submit the paperwork to the higher ups and promote you, Ronald, to work alongside Grell full time as a senior reaper.” 

Tears were welling up in Ronald’s eye. 

Will was growing increasingly uncomfortable. 

“Do not,” Will said, his words coming out a far steelier command than he intended, “cry.” 

“I’m sorry, boss.” Ronald said, dashing the back of his hand over his good eye, sniffling and granting his superior a small smile. “I’m just… so grateful. Thank you.” 

Will cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. Gratitude, and tears. Two things he never willingly invited into his office. 

“Yes. Well. I will be eating crow for the rest of the day.” Will said. “As soon as you leave, I have an appointment with Sutcliff.” 

“Oh, no.” Ronald did not quite feel bold enough to laugh in front of his superior. “She will, ah, be very pleased at the prospect of a private audience.” 

Will’s disapproving glower caused the younger shinigami to clam up once more, sitting up straighter in his chair. 

“This is hardly the time for levity, Knox. A dangerous demon has disappeared with the Earl Phantomhive. This problem must be resolved immediately with no room left for error. You may go, and take the rest of the day off.” 

Ronald dared to give Will another small smile before standing, feeling like he should bow or something but he just grabbed his scythe and pushed it awkwardly out of the room, blades clanking. 

He paused in the doorway.

“Thanks again, sir.” His smiled broadened, and he left. 

Will sighed, but the worst was far from over. He braced himself for what was to come, weaving his gloved fingers together as his entire body tensed. 

Seconds after Ronald departed, the door swung open, and shiny black heels on red leather boots twirled into the small office. Grell Sutcliff loomed in the doorway, letting the gravity of her presence sink in, and Will’s dread mount. 

“Oh, William,” she shut the door with her heel coyly, leaning against it, slouching slightly so that her red coat bunched up and her bright red hair slid against the wood, framing her face. She looked up at him over the crimson frames of her glasses, sultry green eyes peering through a thick curtain of black, feathery lashes. “It is so dear of you to summon me, and it has been all of this time since we have seen each other… much less been alone! How do you want me, dear? Over the desk? Against the door?” she smirked, placing a gloved finger against her painted red lips. “Oh, do not tell you intend for this to be a brisk tryst, my heart cannot bear a tease!” 

A purple vein on William’s temple throbbed. He could already feel the dull headache begin to sharpen. 

“Sutcliff,” he said, trying to pull the conversation around to its professional, reasonable purpose. “Sit down.” 

Grell pouted, pushing herself away from the door and grabbing the back of the chair, pulling it closer to his desk than Ronald had dared sit. She plopped down in the seat, leaning close conspiratorially, keeping her voice low. 

“You are never any fun.” She said. 

He used to be fun, once. 

He killed himself because of it. But she had no way of knowing that. 

“Sutcliff, are you aware of how Knox lost his eye?” 

Grell blinked. “Of course,” she said. “The silly boy told me that he lost it in London, fighting a demon. He said you saved his life, how very dear of you to do so.” 

“And did he tell you anything about the demon in question?” 

Grell huffed. Coming to terms with the fact that this was not going to be a fun meeting, she leaned back and slouched in her chair, folding her arms. 

“Nothing coherent.” She said. 

“The demon who attacked Ronald has been under contract with a woman in London named Lady Violet Clifton. You were assigned to reap her husband’s soul a month ago.” 

“Was I?” Grell sounded bored.

“Yes, but you never did.” Will set one hand on top of his other, staring the reaper across from him down. 

Grell shrugged. “I arrived, there was nothing; no soul for me to reap, no demon to slay for it. I left. I did have a lot of work that day.” Her glance was briefly accusatory.

“Yes,” William said, his voice edged with ice. “And somehow, you neglected to submit the paperwork for the incident.” 

Grell squirmed, kicking her heels like an impatient child. “You are chastising me and I don’t deserve it.” 

She did deserve it, and worse. But no matter how often or how harshly William punished her, she persisted with ridiculous behaviors that compromised the dignity of the reapers as a whole. If they were not so hideously understaffed…

Will pushed the matter into the back of his mind, he would stew over it later. 

‘If you do not wish to lose your scythe again, Sutcliff, you will completely your next assignment flawlessly.” Will said. 

That got her attention. She sat up in her chair, leaning forward. Her expression read boredom, but there was a flash of danger in her eyes. Her shoulders were tense and her index finger dragged down her bottom lip, smearing red lipstick in a bold streak down her chin. 

“All right, William,” she purred, sliding one leg over the other to cross them. “Anything for you, you don’t have to make threats. We are civilized beings, not…” she slid a tongue over her lips. “Animals.” 

Will set his teeth. All of these years… 

One day she would stop grating on him.

He adjusted his glasses again. He was beginning to think he needed to get them resized. 

“You will track down this demon for me.” 

She lifted an eyebrow. 

“You seem to have a talent for bringing them out of the woodwork.” William continued. “You will find him, but you will not attempt to destroy him immediately. You will report back to me, and then I will join you at the location.” 

“Oh, I see. And where will you be, my brave William?” 

“I will be attending to the matter of finding Sebastian Michaelis.” 

Her jaw dropped, and she whined. 

“Ooh, William!” she squirmed in her seat. “How absolutely unfair you are! To entertain the company of my Sebas-chan without me! Must you stop at nothing to break a fair lady’s heart?”

“You will do as told, and I will hear no complaints.” Will said. “You are permitted to keep your scythe for safety purposes. But I warn you, Grell, if you do not do your job…” 

“You will teach me a hard lesson?” she pressed her hand to his chest. 

His fingers curled, gripping at nothing on the surface of his desk. 

“We will meet at the coffee shop that is across from the Undertaker’s shop tomorrow night.” He said. “You will have found the demon before then.” 

“Oh, a date! You tease me, you really do.” She stood, pressing her palms to his desk and sliding over the surface until they were nearly touching noses. She gazed at him adoringly, reaching out to touch his nose. She left behind a smudge of lipstick. “You know William, you really ought to try loosening up a bit. Treating me so coldly in private as well as public is such delightful torture, but a lady such as me cannot be kept waiting forever.” 

She smelled like lilac perfume. It barely masked the scent of blood. 

William stared her down, a long look. 

“You are dismissed, Sutcliff.” 

She pulled away, flipping her long red hair. “Do I get to take Ronald with me?” 

“He is off duty for the remainder of the day.” 

“Oh, good. Then he won’t mind keeping me company.” She flashed him an unsettling wide smile, showing off all of her sharp white teeth, and then waltzed out of the room as lightly as she had stepped in, not bothering to close the door behind her. She knew how much that nettled him.


	2. Hell is Lined with Satin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. Things are getting weird, but I kind of love it.

“Poor thing.” 

Soft fingers brushed over his cheek. Ciel cringed away from the touch. His mouth was dry and burned from the tight gag. His arms ached from being held so long above his head, and he was fairly certain his wrists were bruised. 

He had to piss. 

There was nothing elegant about this form of captivity, no matter how much satin they used. 

The blindfold slipped over his head, and Ciel had to close his eyes against the bright light. Heavy red velvet curtains had long ago been drawn over the windows and he had no clue what time of day it was, but the whale oil lamps made it appear as if it were the middle of the afternoon. 

He finally managed to open up his eyes, but only partially. He found himself staring into the face of Lady Violet Clifton and her deep, hooded blue eyes. 

“You are so pale.” She would not stop touching him. Her hands wandered through thick black hair and traveled down his neck, over his small, sloping shoulders. “You must be hungry. And thirsty. “

He was. He could not remember the last time he ate. Ciel muttered something into the gag and Lady Clifton smiled bemusedly, raking her fingernails lightly down his belly and ending at his hips. 

Ciel regarded her with confusion and rage. He absolutely hated to be touched. 

“I would feed you,” she said. “But we find ourselves unable to trust you enough to remove the gag.” She leaned over, kissing him softly on his cheek. “Soon.” 

He moaned, closing his eyes again. 

“I brought something for you.” She gripped his hair, jerking his head up. “Open your eyes.” 

He obeyed, and saw what she was holding in her other hand. It was a heap of soft pink satin, edged with white lace.

“I know you have to relieve yourself,” she said, holding up the garment a little higher. “I’ve layered the pads inside extra thick, so you won’t be too uncomfortable.” 

He wanted to thrash defiantly, but he was too weak. His eyelashes fluttered and he tugged on his bonds a little, feeling them tighten further. He whimpered, remembering too late what Heath had said. 

She smiled at him and opened up the diaper. She reached over and pulled his feet through the holes before sliding it up his thin legs, snapping the waistband a little playfully. 

“There,” she said. “Now you won’t mess up the bed.” 

Ciel glowered at her, his cheeks burning. But the sensation of cloth rubbing against his intimate parts was too much stimulation working against what he had already been holding in for hours, and he felt himself give in almost immediately, filling the diaper until it was heavy and swollen between his legs. 

“There.” She patted his back, kissing his cheek again, her lips lingering before sliding over to his ear, nipping and tugging on his soft earlobe. “Doesn’t that feel better?” 

He could not even bring himself to look at her. 

“I’m sure the plug is doing nicely.” She said conversationally. “Heath will be down to remove it soon, and see how you are faring.” 

He didn’t even twitch. 

She sighed, and stood up from the bed, smoothing out her voluminous skirts.

“I am going to go find him.” She said. “I’m going to see if we can at least make you a little more comfortable.” She winked and stepped out of the room, picking up one of the lamps on the way to take her with her. 

Ciel moaned in frustration into his gag and his head drooped. Summoning a little bit of strength, he tried to push the gag out of his mouth using his tongue, but the strip was too tight, and his mouth was filled with too much cloth. 

All he could do was lie there and wait. At least she had left him without the blindfold. 

He want to memorize everything about them, every detail of their conventionally attractive features. He wanted to remember what they looked like so he would have a nice basis for comparison when Sebastian started ripping everything apart.


	3. Drinking in the Thames

It had been twenty-four hours since Ciel Phantomhive had disappeared. 

A cold wind skimmed the surface of the Thames, its biter tongue slithering over William’s cheek and giving rise to a blush. He exhaled, a cloud of breath disappearing into the air as quickly as it materialized.

Sebastian Michaelis stood by the water’s edge only a few feet away, his back turned to the reaper. He was rigid as stone, and there was no brush of color bringing his face to life. The demon refused, as always, to appear entirely human even for the sake of a passerby. There was always something intrinsically wrong, and mortals could sense it. 

That was one thing William had to give them credit for. Humans could spot the supernatural on a dime, even if it was only by the twisting feeling in their gut. 

William gripped the handle of his scythe, keeping at his ready in case this encounter turned sour. He could sense that the demon was on edge. Sebastian had probably torn up half of London by now searching for his young master. 

If Sebastian had not found Ciel by now, William was not overly confident in Grell’s ability to do much better. He brushed the niggling doubt away. He had to focus on the situation at present. 

“One step closer.” Sebastian said. His resonant voice carried on the breeze, and it sounded as if he were standing right beside the reaper, whispering in his ear. 

Danger. William could feel it as surely as if there were fingers pressed into his throat. 

William lifted his chin, looking down his sharp nose. Sebastian’s hands were in his pockets, his black hair being caressed lovingly by the breeze.

“I have a proposition.” Will said, fighting to keep his voice at its usual level of apathy. “We can help each other.” 

Sebastian said nothing. 

William knocked the edge of his clippers into the side of his glasses, annoyed. 

“I have found the Earl Phantomhive.”

That merited a response. Sebastian turned on his heel, crimson eyes glowing like live coals, buried in the shadow of his swooping, elegant brows. 

“Have you?” the demon asked, as if this were a polite discussion over tea. “I would like to know how you managed that, when I myself have not been able to find a trace.” 

“Grell Sutcliff was assigned to his case. She has already located him, and reported back to me. We can recover him immediately.” It was only a half-bluff. 

“And in exchange for being allowed to trail your heels like a guard dog off his leash, you…?” the demon’s words trailed off. He held the reaper’s gaze. A long, smoldering look.

“You will aid in the destruction of Heath Clifton, the demon otherwise known as Legion.” 

“I see.” Sebastian said. The words hung heavily in the air, and a serene, docile expression moved over Sebastian’s face.

William felt his scythe being lifted off the ground. He kept his grip firm, but it did not matter to the demon who twisted the weapon around, slamming the bar underneath the reaper’s chin. William brought up his other hand to grip the pole, trying to wrench it away from Sebastian, but the demon was faster. William felt his feet leave the ground, and the world spun as wind whipped across his face, stinging his eyes. When the world righted itself again, Sebastian was standing on the same ledge, as if he had never moved, but now he was gripping the end of the scythe with one hand – his straight arm extending it and the unfortunate reaper over the surface of the water. The bar dug into William’s chin, keeping his head at an awkward angle, enough to make it difficult to breathe. William gasped and gripped the scythe as tightly as he could, feeling the blood drain from his knuckles. If he let go, he would plummet into the water. 

Drowning. Drowning in the Thames. 

It had happened before. 

Will closed his eyes, fighting against the anxiety that clawed at his throat, making breathing – and already difficult task – even more laborious. Gray spots were beginning to splotch across his vision; and the rush of the water below, choppy from the prevailing winter wind, warred against the panicked roaring of blood in his ears. 

He could barely hear Sebastian. 

“You do not know where my master is.” The demon butler said. He spoke like a disappointed parent who had caught their child sneaking sweets. 

Will didn’t reply. He could not reply. Sebastian let the scythe dip lower, and Will felt himself drop, just a little… just enough. 

No, no, no, no! 

There were no rocks in the toes of his shoes, this time. Nothing in his pockets to drag him down. He was still a few feet above the surface of the water, but if he fell, he would sink. The water would be too eager to reclaim him. The Undertaker had pulled him free last time. It wouldn’t happen again. 

Will found himself staring at the sky, the slate gray clouds that drifted indolently above his head. Between them, a spot of blue. 

Blue eyes. 

Blue eyes… deeper than the Thames. 

They had stolen his heart, but the Thames had stolen his breath – its freezing fingers snaking down his gullet to drag it out, a cruel burning path in his nose and throat. He had swallowed too much water, it made his lungs burst, his chest ache. 

He had regretted it, in the end. He imagined everyone did. 

Will closed his eyes, he could feel his fingers going numb, the blood draining from his face and the steel bar of his scythe warming to his skin. 

His son had had brown eyes. Bright, like cinnamon. Red hair like his mother, and brown eyes… who knew where those had come from. 

He had burst those brown eyes with his thumbs, choked that slender throat until he felt the pulse die underneath the pressure of his hands. He heard his wife screaming. A bullet had silenced her, embedded between her petite breasts. 

She had bled out as he beat her bloody with the handle of the revolver. There was nothing to recognize the woman he loved, by the time she was dead. 

It was her fault, she was going to leave.

No, no, it was his fault… he had been drunk. 

William did not even register the scythe moving, once again. His feet brushed over the ledge, his knees hit the bank. William sank down to the ground and released his hold on the scythe, pressing his cheek to the cold street, his glasses digging into the side of his nose. 

His breath was coming in short, ragged gasps. His entire body may have been shaking, he knew at least that his arms were. 

Sebastian’s eyes flashed. “I will retrieve my young master. If he orders me to kill Heath Clifton, I will be successful. A reaper’s scythe is not needed.” 

“But it will … be used.” Will was struggling to push out an entire thought, at least his breathing was returning to normal. “Either you cooperate with us, or we will destroy you, as well.”

Will felt long fingers entwine themselves in his hair, yanking his head back and pulling him up on his knees. Fingers slid over his cheek, caressing his jaw and ear, slipping down his neck and pressing cruelly into the bruise under his chin. 

“Well, senior.” Sebastian cooed softly. “I do believe I have scrambled your brains.” 

Will clenched his teeth. Sebastian felt the jawline tense, and he smiled. 

“I have one condition.” Sebastian said.

“You don’t get conditions.” William replied.

Sebastian ignored him. “Whatever orders the master gives me, you will not interfere with them.” 

“I cannot promise that.” 

Sebastian slid his hands away, gripping William’s collar and pulling the reaper up onto his feet. 

“Where are we to meet Grell?”


End file.
